At Peace
Page 130
Then I heard what sounded like a drill.
“Is that a drill?” I asked Keira.
Keira turned her ankle to the side, bit her lip then stated, “Well, Joe decided we also needed desks to put our computers on while we’re doin’ our homework and…” She hesitated. “Um…” She hesitated again. “Shelves for our books.”
“Joe!” I shouted, forgetting about patience.
Mooch yapped and Keira jumped.
Then Keira muttered, “Uh-oh.”
The drill kept right on going as I dropped Mooch and stalked down the hall, repeating on a shout, “Joe!”
The drill stopped when I turned at the door to Keira’s room and saw Kate holding up some shelves (that I had to admit, to myself only, looked really good in Keira’s room). Joe was standing with her, his neck twisted to look at me standing in the door. I also saw there was a desk that matched the shelves. Both were painted white, both were immensely girlie and the desk had a laptop on it, the cover looked like it was purple glitter.
I was screwed. Keira was never going to give up a laptop with a purple glitter cover.
My narrowed eyes went to Joe. Mooch, having come to sit by my feet, yapped, giving me puppy backup.
Kate’s cautious eyes went beyond me to where I knew Keira was standing.
Joe put the drill on a shelf and moved toward me.
“In our room,” I demanded, “we gotta talk.”
He didn’t let me turn and stomp to our room. Before I moved an inch, he hooked me with an arm at my waist, pulling my stiff frame into the room as well as into his body and I realized he was fighting a smile as I watched his face dip close to mine.
“Baby, you don’t even have wi-fi,” he said, and, being Joe, he started his explanation somewhere in the middle.
It was true. We didn’t have wi-fi, because we didn’t need wi-fi because we only had one computer.
“We gotta talk,” I repeated.
“Girls can’t get shit done, sharin’ a computer,” he went on.
“Bedroom. Talk,” I bit out.
“Now they can work anywhere in the house where they’re comfortable. They’ll be more productive,” Joe continued.
This made sense.
I didn’t give him this point, instead, I snapped, “Joe –”
His head dipped closer and he touched his mouth to mine, effectively quieting me before he continued. “Katy’s gonna be a junior. She told me she’s college prep, come second semester, she’ll already be takin’ college credit courses. Work’s gonna get tougher, she’ll need her own space to concentrate and she’ll need a system to take with her when she goes away to school.”
“Right,” I replied sarcastically, “the rate your goin’, you’re not gonna buy her a new one before she goes off to college.”
At my words, firm indication to Joe, as well as the girls, that Joe was going to be there in two years to get Kate a new computer, Joe’s eyes went soft, his face grew tender and he grinned at me. Through this, I heard Keira stifle a giggle and Kate cough to hide her laugh.
Hearing my daughters’ amusement, seeing Joe’s face like that, I forgot why I was mad.
Joe saw it, or sensed it, and his arm around me tightened.
“If it makes you feel better, Kate bought the new beanbag for her room with her own money,” Joe told me and I rolled my eyes but I did this mostly for show.
When I rolled them back and looked at Joe, I stated, “No more shopping in your truck. You take my girls shopping, it has to be in the Mustang. Furniture and beanbags don’t fit in a Mustang.”
Joe was still grinning when he asked, “How’ll you get to work?”
“We’ll trade cars.”
His arm gave me a squeeze and he said, “You don’t drive my ride, honey, no one but me drives my ride.”
“Why? You drive mine,” I reminded him.
“Yeah, but I’m a guy,” Joe answered.
“This is true, Joe’s a guy,” Keira put in, coming to stand at our sides.
I looked at Keira, now trying to fight my own smile then back at Joe before pointing out, “Yeah, you’re a guy, why’re you shoppin’ at all?”
“Rulebook says I can shop for furniture and shit with plugs. The beanbag was pushin’ it but since I didn’t pay for it, I get a bye on that,” Joe explained and I heard mirth burst forth from both girls again, this time they didn’t smother it.
I put my hands on Joe’s arms and, giving in, I asked, “Are those shelves gonna be done by dinner?”
Joe gave me another squeeze then he touched his lips to mine before letting me go, moving back to the shelves and saying, “Depends if dinner’s gonna be ready in ten minutes or thirty.”
I wanted to know what dinner took ten minutes to be ready. Then I wanted to know if it was any good and not nuked in a microwave.
I didn’t ask, I answered, “Thirty, at least.”
Joe picked up the drill and looked at me. “Then, yeah.”
I looked at Kate who was smiling a small smile and still holding up the shelves. Then I looked at Keira who was standing at her new girlie desk, her fingertips on her new laptop, also smiling but hers wasn’t small. Then I looked at Mooch who was sniffing around on the floor, likely trying to find something to destroy with his puppy teeth. Then I looked at the girlie shelves that looked so good in Keira’s room. Then I looked at Joe.
“We’re eating at the table,” I informed them, my eyes still on Joe.
“Works for me,” Joe muttered, tilting his head and aiming the drill at the shelves.
“Me too,” Kate put in.
“Me three!” Keira added.
The drill whirred. I shook my head and left the room, going to Kate’s room to see she had black lacquered shelves and desk; a sleek, shiny black laptop; and a leopard print, furry beanbag. She’d already re-decorated, moving books and knick knacks she’d had piled on her dresser and nightstand to her new shelves and desk and rearranging posters.
This looked good too.
Though she’d need more books and knick knacks to fill it out.
I smiled as I walked to the kitchen. I made dinner with Mooch helping me (partly because I think he was afraid of the drill, partly because he knew I’d feed him scraps). We ate at the table. I did the dishes while the girls played with their laptops and did more redecorating. When I was done with the dishes, Joe showed me around the new computer in the study that already had four users programmed in it, the names all in a column, starting with “Joe” on top, “Violet” under that then “Kate” then “Keira”. Something about our names all in a column on the family computer struck me. It was a good hit. So good, I wondered why anyone on earth would need drugs. You could get high just having a family.
“Is that a drill?” I asked Keira.
Keira turned her ankle to the side, bit her lip then stated, “Well, Joe decided we also needed desks to put our computers on while we’re doin’ our homework and…” She hesitated. “Um…” She hesitated again. “Shelves for our books.”
“Joe!” I shouted, forgetting about patience.
Mooch yapped and Keira jumped.
Then Keira muttered, “Uh-oh.”
The drill kept right on going as I dropped Mooch and stalked down the hall, repeating on a shout, “Joe!”
The drill stopped when I turned at the door to Keira’s room and saw Kate holding up some shelves (that I had to admit, to myself only, looked really good in Keira’s room). Joe was standing with her, his neck twisted to look at me standing in the door. I also saw there was a desk that matched the shelves. Both were painted white, both were immensely girlie and the desk had a laptop on it, the cover looked like it was purple glitter.
I was screwed. Keira was never going to give up a laptop with a purple glitter cover.
My narrowed eyes went to Joe. Mooch, having come to sit by my feet, yapped, giving me puppy backup.
Kate’s cautious eyes went beyond me to where I knew Keira was standing.
Joe put the drill on a shelf and moved toward me.
“In our room,” I demanded, “we gotta talk.”
He didn’t let me turn and stomp to our room. Before I moved an inch, he hooked me with an arm at my waist, pulling my stiff frame into the room as well as into his body and I realized he was fighting a smile as I watched his face dip close to mine.
“Baby, you don’t even have wi-fi,” he said, and, being Joe, he started his explanation somewhere in the middle.
It was true. We didn’t have wi-fi, because we didn’t need wi-fi because we only had one computer.
“We gotta talk,” I repeated.
“Girls can’t get shit done, sharin’ a computer,” he went on.
“Bedroom. Talk,” I bit out.
“Now they can work anywhere in the house where they’re comfortable. They’ll be more productive,” Joe continued.
This made sense.
I didn’t give him this point, instead, I snapped, “Joe –”
His head dipped closer and he touched his mouth to mine, effectively quieting me before he continued. “Katy’s gonna be a junior. She told me she’s college prep, come second semester, she’ll already be takin’ college credit courses. Work’s gonna get tougher, she’ll need her own space to concentrate and she’ll need a system to take with her when she goes away to school.”
“Right,” I replied sarcastically, “the rate your goin’, you’re not gonna buy her a new one before she goes off to college.”
At my words, firm indication to Joe, as well as the girls, that Joe was going to be there in two years to get Kate a new computer, Joe’s eyes went soft, his face grew tender and he grinned at me. Through this, I heard Keira stifle a giggle and Kate cough to hide her laugh.
Hearing my daughters’ amusement, seeing Joe’s face like that, I forgot why I was mad.
Joe saw it, or sensed it, and his arm around me tightened.
“If it makes you feel better, Kate bought the new beanbag for her room with her own money,” Joe told me and I rolled my eyes but I did this mostly for show.
When I rolled them back and looked at Joe, I stated, “No more shopping in your truck. You take my girls shopping, it has to be in the Mustang. Furniture and beanbags don’t fit in a Mustang.”
Joe was still grinning when he asked, “How’ll you get to work?”
“We’ll trade cars.”
His arm gave me a squeeze and he said, “You don’t drive my ride, honey, no one but me drives my ride.”
“Why? You drive mine,” I reminded him.
“Yeah, but I’m a guy,” Joe answered.
“This is true, Joe’s a guy,” Keira put in, coming to stand at our sides.
I looked at Keira, now trying to fight my own smile then back at Joe before pointing out, “Yeah, you’re a guy, why’re you shoppin’ at all?”
“Rulebook says I can shop for furniture and shit with plugs. The beanbag was pushin’ it but since I didn’t pay for it, I get a bye on that,” Joe explained and I heard mirth burst forth from both girls again, this time they didn’t smother it.
I put my hands on Joe’s arms and, giving in, I asked, “Are those shelves gonna be done by dinner?”
Joe gave me another squeeze then he touched his lips to mine before letting me go, moving back to the shelves and saying, “Depends if dinner’s gonna be ready in ten minutes or thirty.”
I wanted to know what dinner took ten minutes to be ready. Then I wanted to know if it was any good and not nuked in a microwave.
I didn’t ask, I answered, “Thirty, at least.”
Joe picked up the drill and looked at me. “Then, yeah.”
I looked at Kate who was smiling a small smile and still holding up the shelves. Then I looked at Keira who was standing at her new girlie desk, her fingertips on her new laptop, also smiling but hers wasn’t small. Then I looked at Mooch who was sniffing around on the floor, likely trying to find something to destroy with his puppy teeth. Then I looked at the girlie shelves that looked so good in Keira’s room. Then I looked at Joe.
“We’re eating at the table,” I informed them, my eyes still on Joe.
“Works for me,” Joe muttered, tilting his head and aiming the drill at the shelves.
“Me too,” Kate put in.
“Me three!” Keira added.
The drill whirred. I shook my head and left the room, going to Kate’s room to see she had black lacquered shelves and desk; a sleek, shiny black laptop; and a leopard print, furry beanbag. She’d already re-decorated, moving books and knick knacks she’d had piled on her dresser and nightstand to her new shelves and desk and rearranging posters.
This looked good too.
Though she’d need more books and knick knacks to fill it out.
I smiled as I walked to the kitchen. I made dinner with Mooch helping me (partly because I think he was afraid of the drill, partly because he knew I’d feed him scraps). We ate at the table. I did the dishes while the girls played with their laptops and did more redecorating. When I was done with the dishes, Joe showed me around the new computer in the study that already had four users programmed in it, the names all in a column, starting with “Joe” on top, “Violet” under that then “Kate” then “Keira”. Something about our names all in a column on the family computer struck me. It was a good hit. So good, I wondered why anyone on earth would need drugs. You could get high just having a family.
